


totally butt crazy in love

by RowboatCop



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Couch Sex, Coulson and Skye watch Clueless, Coulson is a Jane Austen fan, Cuddling & Snuggling, Day 4, F/M, Flirting, Movie Night, Skye is totally his Mr. Knightley, Vaginal Fingering, skoulsonfest2k15redux
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-26
Updated: 2015-07-26
Packaged: 2018-04-11 07:00:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4425893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RowboatCop/pseuds/RowboatCop
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Coulson and Skye totally watch Clueless. Like, whatever. (Skoulsonfest2k15redux Day 4: Movie Night)</p>
            </blockquote>





	totally butt crazy in love

“Want to watch a movie?”

The question comes when they’re putting his office back together after a long day, _secret files_ back in _secret folders_ , empty takeout containers to the trash, his discarded tie and jacket over the back of his chair.

He’s surprised by the offer, and he lifts his gaze from his desk to meet hers, a little unsure of how to respond.

One one hand, it’s not surprising. They’re basically alone on base while everyone takes a summer holiday. It’s one of the things about being the resident orphans, he supposes, though thoughts of Skye’s newly orphaned status are best not considered too deeply.

On the other hand, it’s...intimate.

He’s not sure if they’re intimate like that, like watching movies alone together, and possibly he’s overthinking it.

“Yeah,” he answers after way too long, long enough that he’s turned a nice invitation into something awkward.

“You sure?”

She raises her eyebrows at him, and he hopes he hasn’t offended her with his seeming indecision.

“Yes, I…”

There’s no good way to explain his hesitation, though.

“Yes. What do you want to watch?”

“I was going to watch _Clueless_ ,” she tells him in a tone of voice that indicates her belief that he probably won’t want to watch _Clueless_.

“I’ve never seen it.”

Her eyes light up at that, like disbelief but also happiness that she gets to rectify the situation. He likes that look on her a lot, loves moments when she gets to show him things.

“How do you feel about teenage girl movies?”

Well, not great. He can’t say he seeks out teenage girl movies. But he’s also not great about letting Skye down, so he nods, sort of noncommittal, and she’s clearly amused by his skepticism.

“Meet you in the tv room in ten?”

He nods because what else is he going to do?

And then he frets for ten minutes, standing behind his desk because...what else is he going to do?

 

* * *

 

She’s already there when he walks into the room, dressed down in denim shorts and a long sleeve flannel — something she used to wear regularly that’s been downgraded to pajamas or lounge wear sometime in the last two years.

“I can’t believe you’ve never seen _Clueless_ , Coulson,” Skye chides him as she plops herself on the couch beside him. She’s too close, way too close especially because she’s wearing shorts. _Short_ shorts. Short shorts that show off a lot of her thighs.

And, well, it’s summer. It’s hot. Of course she’s wearing shorts.

She doesn’t wear them in his office, but when she’s ‘off’ he sees her around the Playground in them.

He could move further away, of course, could make sure there are no _accidental_ touches, but he doesn’t want to make her feel bad by putting artificial space between them.

It’s a shitty excuse, of course. He really just doesn’t want to move away from her.

“Teen romcoms weren’t really my priority in the 90s,” he defends himself for his lack of knowledge about an apparent classic.

“What about teen romcoms of the 80s?”

“I’m a bit better there,” he admits, sort of sheepish. She grins at him, not the least bit judgemental because, well, why would Skye be judgemental about his enjoyment of John Hughes films?

She bumps her shoulder against his, like she approves of him, and he likes it too damn much.

“You’ll like this,” she promises.

“I’m sure I will.”

He’s not, actually, but he’s very sure he’ll enjoy sitting next to Skye on the couch.

She presses play and their movie night begins.

 

* * *

 

It’s hard not to turn to look at her when she bops along with the opening credits, bouncing in her seat, and it’s rare to see her so animated lately.

“The sisters hated this movie. They said it was full of bad morals for young Christian women, but we loved it,” she tells him, eyes glued to the screen.

“You snuck watching movies?”

“Over and over.” She sort of laughs at herself.

“How’d you manage that?”

“We’d set up one room with the VCR and switch off playing guard.”

“Very dramatic,” he approves.

“I think we must have gotten the idea from a movie,” she admits.

“But this one was the most popular?”

“Mmmhmm,” she nods. “It’s how I learned what a _virgin_ was.”

“And that being one was bad?”

“No,” she shakes her head as she answers. “It’s treated as a pretty neutral thing.” At that, she meets his eyes and raises her eyebrows, does a faux valley girl voice. “It was _way_ progressive.”

It makes him smile too much, these thoughts of young Skye and of what she's sharing with him now.

 

* * *

 

It takes him half an hour, until Tai shows up, to realize he’s watching an adaptation of _Emma_.

Skye just smirks at him, at his little bolt of excitement.

“You like Jane Austen, Coulson?”

“Of course. I must have read _Emma_ half a dozen times.”

“I only read it because someone told me it was _Clueless_ ,” she admits.

“You preferred _Pride & Prejudice  _didn’t you?”

“Probably,” she admits. “But I always liked Mr. Knightley.”

“He’s _very_ dreamy,” Coulson agrees, earning him a giggle and a light thump on the shoulder from one of the couch cushions.

“Did you see yourself in him?”

He’s honestly surprised by that.

“No, in Emma,” he admits. “Wanting to help people, not always doing it quite right, navigating a lot of social rules…”

She’s smiling at him, something he can’t quite read.

“You’re Elizabeth Bennet, though,” he tells her. “No one needs to tell you how the world works.”

Their eyes meet, and he wonders if he’s stuck his foot in his mouth accidentally — she’s so quiet and thoughtful and he has no idea what to say.

Luckily, Cher is getting held up on screen, and it’s enough to draw them both back to the movie.

 

* * *

 

“Even if I didn’t know where this was going, it’s obvious she should end up with Josh,” Coulson voices, getting him another laugh. He's possibly taking it too seriously. 

“Because she likes watching TV with him?”

“Being comfortable with someone is underrated in romcoms,” he’s almost defensive. “At some point, the butterflies slow down and you’d better like just hanging out together.”

“Is that experience talking?”

“Maybe.”

 

* * *

 

“This scene is so awkward,” Skye murmurs as Cher tries to cuddle into a non-receptive Christian.

He just nods, but stays silent.

“I could never figure out how to make moves,” she admits.

“Moves?” He can’t quite keep his smile in check.

“You know, like…”

She pauses, and he wonders for a moment if she’s going to continue, and then she yawns — way too wide and fake, stretching her arms over her head before dropping her right one down behind his neck.

He laughs.

“What?” Skye asks the question innocently, without moving her arm.

“Was that your move?”

“Did I do it wrong?”

“Hmm,” he nods, eyes still on the screen, and wiggles his shoulders to dislodge her arm. “You have to do the stretch,” he does a faux-yawn, much less fake, and stretches his arms out along the back couch, leaving them up away from her shoulders.

“But you’re not touching me,” she points out.

“Right, that means you decide how much to lean into me.”

“So it’s an invitation instead of a declaration.”

He just smiles at her, is about to move his arms, when she slides in closer so her head is almost against his shoulder and her bare thigh is pressed against his clothed one.

The fact that he can’t feel her skin against his strikes him as monstrously unfair.

“Like that,” he whispers, waiting for her to move away.

She doesn’t.

 

* * *

 

Tai is starting to abuse her popularity before he works up the guts to drop his hand down onto her shoulder.

It’s the prosthesis, but there are enough nerve endings attached that he can feel her — the curve of her shoulder and the warmth coming from under her sleeve.

It occurs to him that he’s never actually touched someone with it before, not like this anyways. It's a big step in its own way.

When she doesn’t tense up or make any indication that it bothers her, he lets his hand slide a little further down her arm, a soft touch that invites her to scoot in closer.

She takes the invitation, lets him wrap his arm around her shoulders as she cuddles against his side, and he wonders why he thought movie night might be a bad idea.

 

* * *

 

It gets hard to focus on the screen when her hand lands on his thigh.

She doesn’t move it, does nothing more suggestive than let it fall there, a natural place for it to be given how close she’s pressed against him.

But suddenly it’s all he can focus on — her hand on his thigh. The warmth he can feel through the cotton blend of his slacks. The way her fingers press against him every so often, in time with the music happening on screen.

He holds his breath and drops his right hand on top of hers, another soft offering that she accepts — turning her hand over so that their palms press together.

 

* * *

 

“We’re getting to the best part,” she tells him, voice quiet.

“The part where she realizes she’s in love?”

“Mmhmm. That what she felt was love the whole time.”

Skye doesn’t look at him, keeps her eyes facing forward, and he’s starting to feel bold enough to make a move until she releases his hand. Not exactly the signal he’s looking for.

She brushes at something on her face and then her hand lands back down on his thigh, higher up.

Much, much higher up.

He makes a sound too uncomfortably close to a squeak when her fingers almost touch his groin, and she stills her hand.

“Coulson?”

“Yeah?” He answers with breath more than word, all the focus in his body drawn to his cock and Skye’s fingers that feel about a hair’s breadth from touching it.

“Is this…”

“ _Yeah_.”

When her fingers finally brush against him, his left hand squeezes her shoulder, too tight at first so he has to force himself to back off.

He gropes blindly across their bodies with his right hand until he's sliding his palm across her bare thigh and then up, up her inner thigh. There’s no need to ask because she parts her legs, goes as far as to hook her right thigh across his lap so he can feel his way up.

The skin on the very top part of her upper thigh — underneath her shorts — is smooth and almost hot, and then he feels lace under his fingertips.

“Shit,” he grunts, a soft little sound that Skye doesn’t even acknowledge except to part her legs further, to invite him to touch her more.

It’s such a short move to dip his fingers under the lace, to feel the hot, slick center of her.

“Skye,” he moans her name, embarrassingly loud because he wants her and because it’s possible she wants him just as much.

She fumbles around for a minute with something he can’t see, and then the room goes silent — the movie paused, the screen still illuminating the room but leaving it so the only sounds are of their breathing, both harsh and coming too fast.

He’s not sure who kisses whom, just that suddenly he’s almost collapsed on top of her, sucking on her tongue like he needs it to live.

It’s her hands on the open collar of his shirt, working buttons open as she goes, that makes him focus enough to pull back and return the favor.

Between kisses, she somehow gets his shirt off, tossed halfway across the room, while he manages to get her flannel unbuttoned and her bra cups turned down, exposing her breasts to his tongue.

She’s the one that strips off her shorts — taking her panties with them when she kicks them off, leaving her almost naked underneath him.

“Coulson,” she sighs his name, and he’s never heard anything so good before. “ _Please_.”

He diverts attention from her breasts enough to press his right index finger between her thighs, to slide it up to touch her clit and then down to sink inside of her. She thrusts her hips against him, silently pleading for more, so he pushes another finger inside.

She’s so responsive, hips wild under his hand. It feels like she’s coming almost as soon as he starts, like he’s working her through one long orgasm as she writhes on the couch beneath him.

It’s Skye who rips apart his belt and shoves his slacks and boxers halfway down his thighs, and he drops his head to her shoulder at the feel of her hand circling his cock.

“Condom?” He manages to ask her as she presses his cock against her, letting him feel the heat of her.

“Covered.”

He nods and presses forward, sinking into Skye as she wraps her legs around his ass, somehow pulling him even deeper.

And he’d like to say it’s in any way dignified, something worthy of Skye and how much he feels for her, but it’s not. It’s messy and grunting and fast, her head thrown back as she digs her heels into his ass, his hands gripping her hips too hard.

Somehow, though, it’s still perfect — losing control together on the couch, watching a 90s romcom.

  

* * *

 

She presses play while he’s still collapsed on top of her, head resting against her bared breast.

“I love this part,” she tells him, voice low and quiet.

Their two leads are sitting at a table together, playing footsie and working on a legal case.

“The part where they finally get together?”

“Yeah.”

  
  


 


End file.
